


Influence

by kaijoskopycat



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Arguing, Dominance, Frustration, Kissing, M/M, Mild Language, Sexual Frustration, Suggestive Themes, where zen complains and jumin stops him in his own special way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:20:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8449591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaijoskopycat/pseuds/kaijoskopycat
Summary: Zen is furious. He never asks for Jumin's help, but Jumin somehow finds a way to step in and make his life a little more frustrating. But this time, Zen isn't going to vent his frustrations in the messenger. He's going to see Jumin in person to give him a piece of his mind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I may be slightly, sorta super madly in love with the idea of JuminZen.

Jumin hears him outside his office door. He’s been expecting it. But perhaps not so soon.

“Where is that trust fund kid?”

“Zen…” Jaehee’s voice, though soft, hardens in warning. As much as she admires Zen, Jumin knows she values her job and the money it brings in. “Please lower your voice. Mr. Han is trying to get some work done and–”

“You think I give a shit?” Ignoring the warning, Zen’s voice rises. “You better let me in there, Jaehee. He knows what the hell he did. JUMIN!”

“Zen, please…”

Jumin sighs and reaches out for the intercom that connects to the phone on Jaehee’s desk.

“You may let him in, Jaehee.”

Silence stretches along the opposite side of the door until he hears Jaehee fumble with the intercom switch. “Ah, Mr. Han, I don’t think that is wise at the moment. You have quite a bit of work to get done and Zen is in… rare form right now. I don’t think–”

“Let him in,” Jumin repeats, his voice firm with command.

He can hear the way Jaehee barely suppresses a sigh as she says, “As you wish.”

As he expects, Zen wastes no time in kicking his office door in. Like a petulant child throwing a tantrum, he slams it behind him, stomping across the room in a furious, if dramatic, fashion.

“You jerk,” Zen growls, slamming his palms on the opposite edge of Jumin’s desk. “I told you stay the hell out of my career and what do you do?”

“I’m in no mood for riddles,” Jumin replies, his eyes scanning over the documents in front of him, purposely not meeting Zen’s furious glare. He knows what the lack of acknowledgement will do to him. “So please, get to the point.”

“You know damn well it’s not a riddle,” Zen snaps. “You used your snobby, rich boy influence to get that man to approach me about the commercial.”

“Am I to understand that you turned down such a promising opportunity?”

“I know you used your position or your money to bribe that man into…” Zen throws his arms into the air, strands of near silver hair clinging to his face as he shoves himself away from the desk and paces back and forth. “You know I want to gain popularity with my own abilities. I don’t need you to tell people to hire me! I can do that on my own. I don’t need your–”

“What makes you think I told him to do anything?” Jumin has to fight back the urge to grit his teeth and growl in a similar fashion to Zen’s childish complaints. “I did no such thing.”

Zen freezes, casting a narrowed, side eyed glance at Jumin. “What are you talking about?”

Jumin, though quite proficient at reigning in his temper, can feel a vein throb at his temple the more Zen pushes at him. “I used no money.” He pauses, eyes flickering up to meet Zen’s glare. “Nor did I use my position. I merely showed off a few of your videos that happen to be posted everywhere for everyone to see.” He ignores the way Zen huffs in response. “And suggested that you would be the perfect face for their new product.”

With a snarl, Zen stomps around the desk, stopping in front of Jumin. “Don’t try to pull your lies with me.” He slams a hand on the desk, scattering Jumin’s papers, and leans forward. “I’m sure it’s a product your company is involved with and he can’t say no when the director asks him to use someone in an advertisement for–”

Jumin’s hand snaps up, grasping Zen’s chin between his thumb and forefinger. Zen draws in a sharp breath, but doesn’t pull away. He never backs down from Jumin’s challenges. It’s a trait Jumin, begrudgingly, admires.

“You need to put considerable effort into your poor listening skills,” Jumin tells him, silencing Zen’s protest by sliding his thumb up to press against Zen’s lips. “I will say this again for your sake, but know that I do not like having to repeat myself. I did not bribe this man. I did not use my position to further your professional life. My company has no interest in this product and has never, nor will it ever back it. I made sure that I was far removed from this project before suggesting you as a candidate for their advertisement. Did he offer you the position? Or did he suggest meeting with you to discuss the possibility of doing so?”

Zen lets out a soft breath, color rising to his cheeks as Jumin continues. His silence is answer enough.

“As I thought. And yet you come stomping in here, causing a scene in my office. It is during working hours.” Jumin glances at the clock. “Many of my staff still remains and likely saw your little temper tantrum out there.”

“It wasn’t–”

“Ah,” Jumin presses his thumb harder against Zen’s lips. “Did I give you permission to speak?”

Zen pulls his lower lip between his teeth and glares.

“I did not think so.” Jumin caresses his fingers under Zen’s chin. “You enjoy making a spectacle of yourself, don’t you? It makes people turn their heads and watch you…” Jumin scans over Zen’s face, taking in the way his cheeks flush, his eyelashes tickle the curve of his cheeks. He pauses, entranced by the way his lips glisten from the way he licked them, parted ever so slightly to release another soft breath. Jumin adds, “…. to admire you.”

“Jumin…”

“And now you stand before me,” Jumin slides his hand down the side of Zen’s neck, flicking his long hair out of the way. “Nearly obedient in your silence. How rare.” He hooks a hand around Zen’s nape and pulls him forward. “After riling me up…” Zen gasps and braces his free hand on the arm of Jumin’s desk chair. “And I assume you’re expecting an apology for pointing you in the right direction professionally.”

Zen licks his lips and barely nods. “I want you to admit–”

But Jumin admits nothing. He swallows the sentence with his lips, pressing them hard against Zen’s. He feels a soft, reluctant groan from Zen. The hum against his lips makes him tighten his grip. His tongue presses through and Zen fights it, pushing back. He never wins. He always gives in. And soon his knees are anchored at either side Jumin’s hips, his head a few inches higher as he presses their bodies together.

“I still want an apology, you trust fund jerk,” Zen growls, sinking into teeth into Jumin’s lower lip.

“Tch,” Jumin scoffs as he pulls away. “Perhaps if you are obedient enough… I will offer an apology for encroaching on your professional space.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zen slides an arm around Jumin’s neck as he says, “Big words will get you no where.”

“Mmm,” Jumin hums in response. “I have something bigger that will.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumin Han speaks with no regard to what people around him may think. Unless it's Zen. Then he'lol deliberately speak in a way that riles him up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was gonna be a one shot and then I wrote this. LOL

The party is everything Zen expects it to be. The guests are all interesting, quirky in the best kind of way. They all bring a spark to the party that helps to light the fire the RFA aims to stoke every time they throw one. He can't help but smile as he fluidly moves through the crowd of guests.

Then again, he's also smiling because he likes he keep up appearances. The smile hides the thoughts, hides the question of where _he_ is, ever present just on the outskirts of his mind. He catches glimpses of him as they both mingle, glimpses of a faint smile, a nod here or there he passes him by, hears the rumble of a fake laugh when appropriate. 

Jumin, for all the walls he's put up, is an excellent host. He wears the right kind of suit that fits him so perfectly Zen knows it's been tailored to his exact body shape. He knows how to tie his tie with the perfect knot, how to style his hair so it looks classy, but gives him a look of being borderline dangerous, enticing.

Zen shakes his head and suppresses the grimace at the thought. Jumin, enticing? 

"Never," he mumbles, finding a corner near the door to nod to the guests as they leave.

"I see you've developed the habit of talking to yourself, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised... you do appear to value yourself over anyone else."

Zen jumps, nearly bumping into a guest as he steps away from the very man who had been plaguing his mind all night. "When did you--"

"I was here the entire night, Zen. I am a member of the RFA, just like you."

Zen scowls. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Hmm..." Jumin holds a glass of wine, absently swirling the liquid inside as his eyes graze over Zen's outfit. "You clean up quite nicely."

"Wha--" Zen glances down at the white suit jacket that fits him almost as perfectly as Jumin's black one fits him. _Like Yin and Yang_ , he thinks, banishing the thought as quickly as it comes. He refuses to admit they fit together just as well. "I can make anything look good. You know--"

"I can agree with that," Jumin concedes with a nod, taking a small sip of wine. Zen's shock must be written on his face because Jumin's lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile as he leans to the side. "You look just as good in nothing as well."

He feels the heat rush to his cheeks as his eyes widen and he has to turn his face away to keep his expressions under check. It's the wrong move to make. Jumin takes advantage, as he always does, of Zen's reaction and whispers against his ear. The warmth from his breath makes Zen shiver.

"I quite like the suit on you, Zen, but I will like it better on the floor. I hope you know I expect you at my penthouse the moment Assistant Kang leaves for her home. I intend to make your cheeks darken for a much more pleasurable reason and I will leave even darker marks on your body to remind you who you belong to."

Zen doesn't think his face can get any redder. With a growl, he shoves an arm out, barely missing Jumin as he steps out of reach. "Leave. Now," he snaps, whipping his arm out to point at the door.

Jumin smirks as he steps back. Much to Zen's chagrin, Jaehee steps up beside him and greets Zen with a faint nod. "Mr. Han, the car has arrived. Are we leaving now?"

"All the guests have cleared out?" 

Jaehee nods, offering Zen a gentle smile. "Will you be joining us, Zen? It's no trouble to bring you back home as well."

"Yes, Zen," Jumin's smile widens, his head turned so only Zen can see the change in expression. "Will you be riding home with me?"

Zen scrunches his nose and turns away. "Leave!" He repeats, stomping back toward the party to convince Yoosung to leave with him instead. 

"I expect I will see you later then," Jumin says, his voice firm and demanding, leaving no room for argument. 

"Tch," Zen scoffs as he stalks past. "In your dreams."

Jumin catches him by the arm and whispers, "I've heard of dreams becoming a reality. It is not as uncommon as you think."

"You--" Zen rips his arm out of Jumin's grasp and shouts over his shoulder as he stomps away. "Just leave!" 

He's glad he has his back turned because he doesn't want to see the triumphant smirk on Jumin's face. He'll have to see it later anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and bearing with my newfound addiction.


	3. Tango

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is turning into a JuminZen drabble dump. Haha! 
> 
> [drawverylittle](http://drawverylittle.tumblr.com) took the time to create a realistic chat from some chat dialogue I wrote as a preface to this,[here](http://kaijoskopycat.tumblr.com/post/153447155168/kaijoskopycat-drawverylittle-is-the-awesome). I am forever grateful and awed by her abilities. :3

"There is no personal space in the tango, Zen."

"I know that! I'm just--" Zen gasps as Jumin slips an arm around his waist, fitting their hips together.

"No personal space."

Zen's cheeks color and moments later grow darker when Jumin slips a hand below his left thigh and urges his leg upward. 

"Hook it," Jumin guides Zen's leg around his own upper thigh, hooking his knee just below his hips. "Around my leg." 

"But this is--"

"I am showing you how to lead, Zen." Jumin slowly starts to lean forward. "Stretch your right leg back."

Zen swallows the lump in his throat as Jumin leans closer, but he complies. He extends his leg behind him, feeling the stretch as Jumin bends his upper body forward until their chests nearly touch. Their lips are inches away and Zen can almost feel, as much as he can see, the smirk spreading across Jumin's lips.

"I will teach you to tango, and you will obey every word I have to say until you are a proficient partner. I will lead and you will learn."

"But then how am I supposed to learn how to--"

"And when we are finished,"

Zen purses his lips and tries not to shake in the compromising position.

"You will show me what you've learned by leading me."

Jumin slowly leans back, bringing Zen up with him. Zen releases a breath he didn't know he was holding and immediately sucks it back in when Jumin's grip on his hand tightens and he spins him until his back is pressed against Jumin's chest. He's practically sitting on Jumin's leg as he bends it to accommodate the new position.

"The tango is all quick footwork and slow, deliberately passionate sweeps of the arms and legs. Your posture must be impeccable, your frame wide and open. You will look at me when I tell you to look at me, look away when I say to. And you will keep your toes pointed at all times. This is a dance class. You will not lumber around like the oaf you are."

"Hey!" Zen snaps his head to the side and meets Jumin's challenging gaze head on. "I came here to learn. Not to be insulted, you prick."

Jumin brings their joined hands down, slapping them against Zen's inner thigh and dragging them up, over his hips, over his chest, up across his neck until he cups them both around Zen's cheek. 

"Then it's a very good thing I invited you here to teach you, isn't it?"

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is short, but I had too much fun writing Jumin's dialogue not to post it. hahah! Thanks for reading!


End file.
